


Summer Fun

by LittleMissSweetgrass



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Drabble, Gen, Happy PowWow season!, Native American/First Nations Culture, Not Beta Read, Self-Indulgent, i made Rocksteady both black and native cause we need more black native rep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-29
Updated: 2019-06-29
Packaged: 2020-05-29 15:10:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19402867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleMissSweetgrass/pseuds/LittleMissSweetgrass
Summary: It's summer and time for festivals! So the Autobots join their human friends in attending their local Pow Wow





	Summer Fun

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Pow Wow season guys! Sorry for not updating any of my other fics, I've been busy traveling the Pow Wow trail with my family on the weekends! 
> 
> I missed Aboriginal Day by a week (It was on June 21st as it is every year) but I thought i should still post this ;P Hope any people in North America visit a local Pow Wow this summer! As an Indigenous person I can promise you that you'll be welcome there as long as you're respectful! We love having non-natives join in the festivities! 
> 
> My advice is if you do go, bring a little bit of Tobacco tied up in a little cloth tie, or in a little baggie, and give them to any dancers or artists you want to take pictures with as a thank you! Not needed but its Traditional!
> 
> The Pow Wow they go to is actually referenced here: https://www.nytimes.com/1985/08/18/nyregion/indians-to-gather-in-2-day-pow-wow.html

It was late summer at the New York base, and while the sun here wasn’t nearly as warm as their West Coast base, all the Autobots agreed it still felt wonderful on the plating. 

Which was why most of the bots stationed here were ‘sun-tanning’ in an empty parking lot. Tracks, Blaster with his pack of brats, Beachcomber, Hound, Mirage, Cliffjumper, and the commander on base, Jazz, were all resting on their tires in a content semi-circle.

Well, those that had tires. Near the centre but also beside Tracks, there were two lane chairs, one hosting the blue mech’s favourite human, Raoul, and the other seating a red boombox with a couple of cassettes. 

Blaster was serenading the group with some summer pop music he caught from a local radio station, loud enough to hear and enjoy, but quite enough if some wanted to chat amongst themselves.

Raoul, decked out in a white tank top with some blue swimming trunks, was just lazing, smiling in amusement as Mirage bitched about the fact that he couldn’t drive around New York like the rest of the team.

“I’m just saying, it’s not fair that the rest of you get to explore this dazzling city. Meanwhile, if I even step a tire out of this compound I have your enforcers swarming me like turbo rats! One even demanded to cuff my tire once! It was humiliating!” He groused, ignoring Cliffjumper’s snickers and Hound’s amused yet sympathetic humming. 

Jazz chuckled, “‘Raj, ya complain ‘bout the dust ‘n dirt when ya patrol at the St. Hillary base, ‘n ya complain ‘bout being stuck to base here! Mech, whataya want a bot to do?” Jazz sighed dramatically, sinking onto his tires. Raoul snickered at the display, which turned into full blown laughter as Mirage revved his engines in mock annoyance.

“I’m just saying! It would be nice if this planet were a little more accommodating! Not all of us can have such civilian alt modes they deem ‘acceptable for the road’! I can drive, my alt was made for paved roads, not that rough, organic, off-roading paths the patrols want us to take!” He huffed, rocked a little on his wheels, bumping into Cliff in an attempt to stop his snickering. “It’s not fair.”

Raoul gave a little sigh, pushing his dark shades down enough so he could peer at the noble over top of them. “Ese, welcome to Earth. If you don’t fit into the little box they think is convenient, then good luck gettin by.” He pushed his shades up and leaned deeper into the red wicker chair he bought at a second hand store. “You want my advice as a someone who doesn’t belong in their box either? Just keep doing what you want and don’t listen to the people telling you not to.”

Beachcomber rolled on his tires a bit. “Yeah mech! Stick it to the system! We’re Autobots, fighin’ to stop the oppressors, and all that noise. Go for a stroll, mech.”

“As the one ‘n charge of all yous, ah feel like ah should be remindin yous we’re guests on this planet, ‘n the Big Boss wants us to play nice.” Jazz started, which was met with a round of annoyed honking and booing from the human present. “But, ahm also a free spark, so do whatever ya want ‘Raj, just don’t tell me, ‘kay? Don’t need Prowler on mah tailpipe ‘cause ah let yous get a ticket, again.”

The bots all let amused, happy rumbles, content to bask in the sun for another moment.

“Oh, Raoul, there was a car show tomorrow. I know how you like attending these things, would you like to go with me?” Tracks asked after a beat of pop music. 

“Tomorrow…” Raoul scrunched up his nose. “No can do, my main mech. Sorry. I promised Rocksteady we’d go to that Pow Wow thing they got going on in Connecticut this weekend. Think it’s to celebrate the anniversary of the state or reservation or something. I don’t know, but Rocky is excited and been yaking about it for weeks since he found out, so I can’t bail last minute, ya feel?” The human shrugged, reaching over to pat on the warm blue frame of his friend. “Sorry man.”

Tracks sighed leaning into the touch a little. “It’s alright, I do suppose that he asked first, so it’s only fair. It’s just we only get to see each other once every so often.”

Raoul made a sympathetic noise, he got what Tracks was getting at. He also missed the big guy when he was off in Washington, and soaked up the stories he would tell him of the Autobot adventures. Raoul was sometimes really jealous of that Witwicky kid, who got to spend all his time hanging out with the Autobots with his dad. “Hey man, why don’t you come with? I’m sure the guys running it won’t mind, and Rocky would love to share his culture with you! Besides, its open to the public and everything anyways so I’m sure you’re allowed to come.”

“What, go to this ‘Pow Wow’ with you? What is it?”

“Yeah! I’ll call up Rocky right now and tell him you’ll join us when we head out tomorrow morning!” Raoul smiled, sitting up in his chair a little. “I don’t know that much about it, but from what Rocky told me, it’s his people’s-- his dad’s people not his mom’s-- it’s a type of traditional gathering and ceremony they do. Got banned a while back, ‘cause white people fear any religion they don’t understand.” He snorted, and didn’t notice how all the Autobots were angled towards him now. “But it started up again, ‘cept this time its more of a festival than a ceremony. What with vendors, dancers, music, and contests and stuff.” Raoul shrugged. “It sounded fun. Rocky was saying how his dad wasn’t allowed to do things like this when he was a kid, ‘cause it was illegal where he grew up in Canada, and his school wouldn’t allow any kinda native stuff. So this is like, a big deal or something.”

There was silence in the little group, all the bots saving and reflecting the information. Some of them knew humans weren’t all that great. Jazz had been called a human slur when he visited one of the space centres located in the southern part of the continent as a part of Prime’s command staff. Tracks personally knew and witnessed some humans with lighter paint jobs-- no, skin tones, sneer and make faces of disgust at the back of Raoul’s head. Sometimes, it was a shock to see the type of discrimination and abuse they all started a planet ending civil war over, so prevalent on this new world they called home.

Jazz cleared his vocolizer, bringing all the attention back onto him. “Music ‘n dancin’ ya say? Mind if one more tags along?”

From the other wicker chair, one of the cassettes hopped up and transformed. Rewind, in his black and red painjob looked excited at the human. “Oh, I love human customs and cultures, would you mind if I come too? I’ve love to have some traditional human celebrations on my hard drive!”

His twin jumped up and transformed too. Eject was bouncing on his pedes. “You had me at ‘competition’! Can we go too, Coach?” 

Blaster sighed, dialing down the music for a second. “‘S’ not up to me, little mech. ‘Sides, we gotta watch the base, what if ‘Cons start acting up? Big Boss is counting on us.”

The cassettes slumped, disappointed. Hound spoke up. “Well, if you want, I can stay and watch the base, and comm. you guys if anything important comes up. The New York base is always quite anyways, I’m sure we don’t need all of us here.”

Mirage chimed in too. “I’d rather not go to a human festival, besides, my skills might be needed more here if trouble arises.”

“And someone should be the brains around here, so I’ll stay too!” Cliffjumper said.

Mirage sneered. “I’m sure. If you can actually come up with a strategy that isn’t attack first plan second, I’ll eat my own tires.”

They both transformed and started scuffling, and the rest of the team ignored them, used to Mirage and Cliffjumper’s weird version of affection. 

“So it’s settled then?” Tracks asked? “Hound will stay to babysit Thing One and Thing Two, and the rest of us will accompany Raoul and his friends to this festival?” 

There was a chorus of excited agreement, and Raoul peeled himself off of his chair. He stretched and started towards the base’ back door. “I’ll call up Rocky. Guess we’ll head out in the morning!”  
___________________

Tracks felt a little awed when he first heard the drum beats. It as they got closer, close enough for human hearing, all the humans let out happy hums. The beat was deep, bass filled and clearly heard over the chatter of human voices. He could almost feel the vibrations play off his spark, and with the way Jazz and Beachcomber revved their engines, he knew they felt and appreciated the feeling too.

Tracks was transporting the Bop Crew, while Jazz gave Rocksteady’s creators a lift, and Beachcomber had Blaster and his bitlet in his carriage. Jazz’s passengers, Sherwood and Eliza, were a little apprehensive about being driven around in a fancy, sentient sports car, but from the way Jazz would rev his engine in laughter every once in a while on their two hour trip, Tracks assumed they got over their nerves. 

Once they got to the park proper, and all the humans had their feet on the grass, Tracks enjoyed seeing the look of bliss as all of them took in the wave of music, chatter and happiness that filled the air.

“Can you feel that?” Rocksteady asked, “The way you can feel the drum right here?” He thumped his chest with his open hand. 

Poplocked hummed, “Yeah man, feels like the club when they got good speakers.” 

“Yeah, making my heart feels like it’s pumping double time.” Raoul smiled at his friends. 

Rockstead and Poplock grinned back, and almost as one they all scampered off to the park’s entrance, hollering and laughing like a pack of turbo puppies. They made quite the pack, Tracks mused, they way the shirts Eliza made specifically for the event seemed to match perfectly with each other. Ribbon shirts, she had called them when Rewind asked. She had something similar, except she had a floor length skirt instead of a shirt.

Tracks transformed, ignoring the gasping humans as he did so. Jazz, Blaster, and Beachcomber followed, all stretching and looking around. Sherwood and Eliza were surrounded by Blaster’s pack, all eager and ready to start sightseeing.

Sherwood looked a little misty eyed as he took in the large crowd. Eliza held his hand comfortingly. “Come on dear, it’s ok now.”

He wiped at his eyes, “Yeah, just wish my sister could see this.” They started towards the park, leading the group of Cybertronians towards the Pow Wow.

Once Tracks got in, he noticed Raoul was waiting for him at the entrance. “Hey ese! Come on, what do you want to see first?” He pointed over to a group of wooden hut looking structures. “We got vendors over there. They’re selling traditional arts and crafts and stuff, hunting trophies and animal parts, clothing, and jewellery.” He pointed to the other side, where some food trucks were and more stalls. “Over there they got food of all sorts, not that you can enjoy any of it, but well buy anything if you want a closer look at it!” Then he gestured to the centre area, where a large, grass clearing was empty, but surrounded by stands. “They’re taking a break from dancing right now, but Rocky said they’ll be back soon!”

Tracks smiled down at his favourite human. “Whatever you would like to do, I’ll follow.”

Raoul smiled up at him, and Tracks enjoyed the way the sun made his black, braided hair shine like onyx. The loose ends of the coloured ribbons blowing in the wind reminded the Corvette of the fringe his human was so fond of wearing.

Rewind burst through, catching his servo in Raoul’s hand. “I want to see everything!” He squealed, optics glittering as he dragged the laughing but starttled human towards some stalls.

Blaster sighed, but followed his eger sparkling, while his others swarmed his pedes, making sure they didn’t get into trouble. Tracks followed along easy enough, and he heard Eliza and Sherwood laughing as well. 

“Well then, come on Jazz, I’ll show you to the drummers’ tent, maybe we can ask some dancers to answer your questions about moves while we’re at it, Beachcomber.”  
____________

The day was a blast. Jazz was mesmerized by the drummers and singers. One of the drumming groups even let him try singing back up with some of the women for an intertribal song. Eject hovered around the games and archery contents, cheering on the kids as if it was a professional sports match, and not a bunch of ten year olds figuring out how to hold a bow for the first time.

Rewind fluttered around everywhere, with either Rocksteady helping explain questions he had, or Ramhorn and Steeljaw trailing behind him to keep an eye on their younger brother. Blaster ended up trying to learn some dance moves from one of the local nations. His favourite was the grass dancers, they twirled and jingled along to the beat, yet making it so their regalia fluttered around them was pleasing to his optics. 

Beachcomber was interested and amazed at how many crafts and artworks one could do with animal hides. He sat and listened with rapt attention as some Elders told him and some children traditional stories about the world, and how things ended up the way they were, like the birch tree getting its stripes, or how the turtle got its shell. Poplock even bought him a little cloth eagle feather to hang up on his rearview mirror and a pot of sweetgrass to plant at his garden back in the west coast base.

Tracks, well, he enjoyed just spending the weekend with his favourite human. Helping Raoul pick out a new leather jacket, this time it was a lovely dark brown with little silver medallions instead of studs along the sleeves, or with choosing which pair of moccasins looked best on him. There were so many different styles depending on which nation the creator belonged to, that it was so hard to choose.

On the second day, one of the vendors even gifted him with a little quilt. It was soft, and cutely designed with geometric squares of different patterned cloth that the vendor was selling. They all differed so much that it should have clashed, but instead, they all managed to draw attention to the large red Autobot symbol lovingly stitched onto the centre of the quilt.

Tracks accepted the gift with praise, and Sherwood gave the woman a small tie of tobacco in return on his behalf.

When the newspapers snapped a photo of the event, it showed how happy these groups of nations were in sharing their culture with visitors. Human or Cybertronian.

And it showed how happy the visitors were as well.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for Reading! Hit me up on Tumblr @ Youareunbearable.tumblr.com if you got any questions :P


End file.
